Читать книгу Deep Cover - Kimberly Van Meter - Страница 13

Chapter 5

Poppy walked backstage at Lit, taking a quick note how every eye was on her, openly judging with barely restrained mistrust and hostility.

For a stripper, a new girl was competition.

Poppy saw an empty dressing table and began to drop her duffel, but a redhead jumped in front of her with a dirty look.

“Keep walking, scrub.”

“Sorry, I didn’t realize it was taken.”

“You don’t know sorry yet but you will.”

Poppy could break this redhead, but could Laci Langford, a small-town Connecticut girl?

Probably not.

Poppy refrained from engaging the hostile redhead and kept walking, finding a dresser in the corner of the brightly lit, slightly alcohol-soaked dressing room and plopped down her bag.

She didn’t have to wait long before someone Poppy assumed was the manager came up, a woman who looked impossibly perfect with a tight, honed body, long dark hair and big, perky breasts that looked too amazing to be real but too soft to be fake.

“You’re the new girl, I’m assuming?”

“And who are you?”

“Your only friend so lose the attitude,” the brunette returned. “Look, it’s real simple. You might’ve been hired by the boss or maybe you’re blowing the owner and you think that you’ve got some kind of safety net, but the fact is we run this bar and if you piss us off, you’re out of here. Get it?”

Poppy knew there was a hierarchy in strip clubs, and judging by this woman’s stance she was looking at the ringleader, or at the very least the one the other dancers respected. So it would behoove her to be nice.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I could use a friend,” Poppy said, trying to make amends. “My name’s Laci.”

“Brandi,” she replied, sliding her behind on Poppy’s dressing table, eyeing Poppy openly. “So, you have that fresh-off-the-bus look. Guys love that. Some will even try to save you. If you play it right, you could make a mint off those ones.”

Poppy nodded as if she appreciated the advice. “So how does this work? How much does the house take?”

“You pay thirty dollars to the house for the privilege of dancing, and then whatever tips you make the house mom takes 20 percent. The rest is yours.”

“And who is the house mom?”

“That would be Big Jane,” Brandi said, pointing to the older lady, who was maybe forty, talking to a short busty blonde. “She’s a bitch but she keeps the really insistent guys off us because no one messes with Big Jane.”

“Is that a problem here?”

Brandi leveled a cynical look Poppy’s way. “Honey, you dance topless for a bunch of men with too much money and a sense of entitlement. What do you think?”

“So I should maybe be real nice to Big Jane?”

“If you’re smart.”

“Thanks for the tip.”

Finished with the blonde, Big Jane found her way to them and Brandi took that as her cue to leave.

“Brandi tell you how things work around here?”

“Yes,” Poppy answered, taking in every detail about the older woman. Probably a former stripper, but hard living had taken its toll. Little pockets of jiggly flesh softened her middle and her jowls, but otherwise she seemed in decent shape.

Not dancing shape, though.

Big Jane tossed a tiny sequined outfit to Poppy and said, “The sides have Velcro so it’ll come apart easily enough. But make them work for it before you show off your goods. Depending on your performance, we’ll see if you’re good enough to become a Lit regular.”

Unlike Shaine, who had a secure position as a bartender, she had to work to keep hers. Why should this be any different than anything else in her life?

Poppy smiled with feigned confidence. “Don’t give away my spot. I’m coming back.”

“We’ll see.”

Big Jane walked off, leaving Poppy to figure out how she was going to wow a crowd that was accustomed to seasoned exotic dancers when her talent had been in classical training.

Somehow she doubted the patrons were interested in seeing her arabesque.

Poppy managed to shimmy into the tiny dress, the sharp sequins scraping her skin as she pulled it up over her hips and over her breasts. It clung like a second skin but the Velcro held.

A bubbly blonde bounced over to her, bright smiles and brilliant blue eyes, looking all of sixteen, which immediately made Poppy want to run a background check to ensure a fake ID wasn’t in play, but she squelched the concern.

“You’re so pretty,” the girl gushed with unabashed honesty. “I mean, your skin is like perfect. What’s your secret?”

“Good genes I guess,” she answered. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Capri. Nice to meet you,” she chirped with a sweet smile. “And you are?”

“Laci.”

“I love that name. I knew a Laci when I was in high school and she was the prettiest girl in school. I wonder if all girls named Laci are just naturally destined to be gorgeous.”

“Oh, God, shut up already,” the redhead muttered, rolling her eyes as she stalked past them. “Your set is next and if you get in my way, I’ll shove you off the stage.”

Capri scowled but otherwise didn’t retaliate, waiting until the redhead had left to talk again. “Ugh, that’s Raquel. She’s a bitch. Try to ignore her, though. She’s mean to everyone. Well, everyone except Big Jane, ’cause Big Jane would knock her head off.”

Capri was silly and seemed completely oblivious to anything beyond the sparkle on her sequins, which made her a safe harbor for Poppy. Maybe the witless Capri could unwittingly give her information.

“You’re so sweet,” Poppy said, smiling. “Thank you. New city, new job, I’m a little out of my element. I came to Miami for school but you know how that goes... Money is tight so I heard dancing at the right club could solve my tuition problem.”

“You can make a ton of money if you know what you’re doing,” Capri answered, adding with a giggle, “But I’d never spend all that hard-earned cash on school when there are so many other things you can spend it on like nice clothes, sparkly things and fast cars, you know?”

“Tempting,” Poppy said, smiling. “But for now, I’d just like to graduate college without a ton of debt.”

Capri shrugged, bored. “To each his own.”

Poppy realized talking about aspirations wasn’t going to draw the girl to her, so she switched tracks.

“This place is amazing. So cutting-edge. I can’t believe I got in.”

Capri’s eyes lit up, happy to talk about something she cared about.

“Lit is one of the best clubs I’ve ever worked for.”

“Yeah? How many clubs have you worked for?” Poppy couldn’t help her curiosity. “I mean, you look so young.”

“Age is just a number, right?” Capri giggled. “I mean, it’s experience that matters.”

Poppy withheld the cringe. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Anyway, yeah, Lit is the best. I worked my butt off to get into Lit. You don’t even want to know what I had to do to earn a spot.”

Poppy ignored the little voice in her head that told her to dig deeper into Capri’s backstory. She couldn’t stand the thought of a young girl selling herself because she didn’t know any better, but she wasn’t here to save anyone. Not even exploited teens who didn’t have the sense God gave a goose to know they were headed down a dark path.

“I’m so nervous,” Poppy admitted. That part wasn’t acting. Her hands were shaking. “I wish I had a drink before hitting the stage.”

“If you’re real nice to Angelo, he’ll take care of you,” Capri said. “He’s a sweetie. And so cute. But watch out because Brandi is a jealous bitch if she thinks you’re moving in on her man. Geesh, you’d think she owns the guy or something.”

“So Brandi and Angelo have a thing?”

“Yeah, I guess so. But can you keep a secret?” Capri leaned forward with an excited gleam in her eye. When Poppy nodded, Capri shared, “Angelo likes me, too. He says he’s going to take care of me, introduce me to the right people.”

“And how exactly would he do that?”

“By introducing me to a sugar daddy, of course, silly,” Capri said with a giggle. “The amount of money that comes through these doors is obscene. You’ll see. Maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll catch your own sugar daddy.”

Good lord, she hoped not.

“I mean, I have my regular and he’s pretty nice,” Capri continued, playing with a sequin on her tight body suit. “But a girl needs to spread her wings, see what else is out there, you know?”

“Is he your boyfriend?” Poppy asked.

“God no. He’s not the boyfriend type,” Capri answered with a laugh as if the idea were absurd. “Actually, he’s...let’s just say, he likes what he likes and he doesn’t mind paying for it. But he’s superrich. I’m talking loaded and he’s very generous when he’s pleased.”

The girl had just admitted to prostituting herself. Poppy tried not to fixate on that point. Busting people for underage prostitution was not their focus.

“Are you sure that’s safe?” Poppy couldn’t help but ask.

“You sound like an old lady,” Capri said, giggling. “Besides, he doesn’t ask for too kinky of stuff. It’s like a date but instead of dinner and a movie...you get a fat wad of cash. Can’t beat that, right?”

Poppy nodded as if she agreed, but inside she was horrified. Capri was too young for this.

“Hey, maybe after we get to know each other, I can introduce you. My friend is always looking for new playmates.”

“Thanks,” Poppy said, forcing a bright smile for Capri’s benefit, but inside she was stunned at how cavalier Capri was about selling her body.

This was a foreign world and Poppy was feeling the cultural differences.

“No problem,” Capri said with a sweet smile as if she’d just offered to swap banana bread recipes instead of sharing sexual contacts. “There’s something about you that I like. I hope you stick around. Good luck with your set.”

Poppy murmured her thanks and watched as Capri returned to her vanity to touch up her makeup.

Heaven help her. When this was all finished, Poppy was going to find a way to help Capri see that there was a different life out there waiting for her to grab on to it.

Of course, Poppy knew that people who didn’t want help didn’t appreciate the effort others took on their behalf, but Poppy didn’t care. Capri needed something better than what she was doing.

Whether she knew it or not.

Poppy swallowed as Big Jane hollered for Capri, who then hurried off to start her set, leaving Poppy to try to figure out how she was going to hold on to her position when she didn’t have a clue as to what she was doing.

You’re in over your head, Shaine’s voice intruded in her thoughts, and her gaze narrowed.

Like hell she was.

Moving backstage, she watched Raquel as she finished her set and then Capri danced onto the platform. The girl could move and she could work a crowd.

Pushing aside the concern that Capri might be younger than she let on, Poppy took mental notes, memorizing every move and grind that seemed to garner more attention from the patrons so that by the time it was her turn, she’d have an idea of what to do.

And now taking the stage, a sweet treat, a country girl from Connecticut, Lovely Laci!

Poppy emerged from the curtain, her eyes blinded by the neon lights until they adjusted, and then, of all people, the first person to make eye contact was Shaine.

For a moment she froze, her lungs squeezing with panic, but her desire to win this case was bigger than her fear.

Stop being a pussy. Get the job done.

Any way possible.

Deliberately holding Shaine’s gaze, she slowly gyrated onto the pole, remembering a time when being sexy for Shaine Kelly had been natural.

The rest of the crowd disappeared and it was just Shaine and her.

And when she ripped her tiny dress off, she could’ve sworn Shaine stopped breathing.

Just like that...Poppy was back on track.

* * *

“Hot damn,” Angelo murmured as he rested his elbows on the bar during Poppy’s set. “The new girl is a smoke bomb.”

Shaine forced a casual grin but shrugged. “Not bad. I’ve seen better.”

The words actually felt stuck in his mouth, but Angelo didn’t seem to notice as he was too busy staring at Poppy.

Close your damn mouth, you prick.

Horny patrons were throwing their paychecks at Poppy and she was eating it up, dancing as if she’d been born to it.

A tiny blonde with giant breasts popped up to the bar, practically purring at Angelo. “Can I get something to drink?”

“Sure, babe. What do you want?” Angelo asked, distracted, still watching Poppy.

The girl tracked Angelo’s gaze and then giggled. “That’s Laci. Isn’t she pretty? I think she’s really nice, too.”

Shaine nudged Angelo as if fishing for an introduction, but actually he needed to know all the players coming and going through Lit, and at this point all the dancers were suspect. “Who’s your cute friend?”

“Oh, sorry man, this is my girl, Capri. Capri, meet the new bartender, Rocco.”

Capri exaggerated the hard C with a suggestive look. “Rocco? That’s a hot name.” Then she giggled again before returning to Angelo with a soft pout. “Brandi is being a royal bitch again. Can you please tell her to be nice?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Angelo said, his gaze dipping to Capri’s breasts as he grinned. “I liked your set. Good job, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, baby.”

Angelo looked to Shaine. “Hey, can you hold down the bar for a minute? I’ve got some business to take care of.”

Shaine nodded and watched as Angelo draped his arm around Capri and led her off to the back office.

I wonder if Brandi knows that her guy is shagging Capri, too?

He made a mental note to poke around and ask some questions, maybe even play some head games to see what got put into motion.

Sometimes stirring the pot uncovered interesting ingredients.

Poppy’s set ended and Shaine refused to let his stare gravitate toward her. But damn it, his eyes didn’t seem to want to obey. Against his better judgment, he caught an eyeful of Poppy’s strong body and succulent breasts, immediately hating that men were practically drooling on the stage, calling out her name and catcalling.

Poppy scooped up the cash being thrown at her and then walked with sass off the stage.

The redhead, Raquel, approached the bar. “Whiskey sour,” she said, watching him with interest as Shaine made her drink. “What’s your name?”

“Rocco.”

“Nice to meet you Rocco... I’m Raquel.”

“Pleasure.”

“We’ll see.”

He arched his brow with feigned interest. “Oh?”

She smiled, revealing slightly crooked teeth. “Only if you’re lucky.”

Shaine chuckled. “If I were a smart man I’d stop right now, but I’ve never been accused of being overly smart.”

“Dumb and cute...just the way I like them.”

Shaine pushed her whiskey sour toward her, then leaned forward, using every bit of his charm to get what he wanted.

“So, you seem like a woman who knows what’s going on... Tell me, who really runs this joint? Do the owners ever pop in?”

“Stick around and you’ll find out,” Raquel said, grabbing her drink and sauntering off, leaving him with an unobstructed view of her generous ass and the tramp stamp etched along her lower back of a scorpion.